A Bat Bogey Hex
by June Goddess
Summary: It started with a Bat Bogey Hex in Fifth Year. And now he's obsessed.Rating just in case. Not HPB compliant.
1. Chapter 1

Standard disclaimers apply. Please read and review.

**Chapter One**

_June Goddess_

No one really noticed at first. Draco Malfoy, Sixth Year Slytherin, had never been very talkative while eating, after all, but soon Pansy Parkinson and Blaise Zabini, also Sixth Year Slytherins, became suspicious of his constant preoccupation during meal times. He ate absentmindedly, rarely spoke to his Housemates, and his gaze was always turned to the Gryffindor table. More damning, he never said or did anything to that table's occupants. He just watched.

"What could he be looking at, Blaise?" Pansy queried under her breath. She barely moved her lips and was careful not to look at either the boy to whom she was speaking or the boy of whom she was speaking. She was quite paranoid of the members of her House. She drank from her goblet of pumpkin juice to mask the slight opening of her mouth.

A lazy tour of Italian black eyes scanned the Gryffindor table. He smirked at a boy who noticed, and winked at the girl next to him, who blushed magenta. He watched as the boy angrily faced the girl. He could not hear the conversation between the two, but he knew by the looks on their faces that they were quarrelling. He snorted and drank from his own goblet of pumpkin juice.

"No idea," he breathed. He turned his searching gaze on the blonde Slytherin of their speculation. It went unnoticed due to the other's focus in another direction, but still earned him a sharp kick from Pansy. He rolled his eyes exasperatedly. All her cloak-and-dagger paranoia was mildly entertaining at best, extremely irritating at worst.

For the three weeks of the new school year, this conversation was repeated every day during the meals spent in the Great Hall until the Tuesday before Halloween. It was at the beginning of this dinner that one Ronald Weasley of Gryffindor stalked into the Great Hall, flushing angrily and trailed by a nervous Harry Potter and a concerned Hermione Granger.

"Ginevra Molly Weasley!" the red-haired boy shouted. Silence stole over the Hall's occupants, and many people paused in their eating. Heads turned automatically to watch this promising scene unfold.

Ginevra Molly Weasley, however, ignored her brother. She continued eating and chatting with Colin Creevey, one of her two best friends. He looked rather gray, though, when he spied her brother's angry face, and started shooting nearly petrified glances behind Ginny's shoulder as Ron came to a halt behind her. His skin was a mottled and bright red, his blue eyes furious, his fists clenching and unclenching in spastic twitches. On the whole, he presented a rather forbidding, if comical, figure. Forbidding, that is, to everyone but his younger sister.

"Ginevra!" he shouted again, annoyance tingeing his tone as she ignored him. More heads had turned at this second shout, curious as to what this Ginevra had done to bring out such an interesting shade of red in Ron's complexion.

This time, the girl did not ignore him. Instead she rose from her seat, stepped over the bench, and coolly regarded the irate boy with a cocked eyebrow and crossed arms. Twin blossoms of pink in her cheeks belied her composure, and her eyes were smoldering.

"What?" she snapped, her voice carrying across the silent Hall. Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors alike cringed at her tone, though for different reasons. Hufflepuffs preferred civilized and peaceful negotiations. They were quite averse to confrontations, as this was proving to be. Gryffindors, on the other hand, had been present for too many releases of the famous Weasley temper. They knew that whatever had set the two Weasleys off this time was fast turning into a full-fledged row.

Ron quivered and nearby goblets shook alarmingly. "You know what!" Still shouting, he was now pointing an accusing finger, also quivering, in her face.

It was inches from her nose.

Colin started pushing on the Gryffindor next to him, trying to slide further down the table from the fighting siblings. Hermione clasped and unclasped her hands, looking first at one redhead then the other. Harry let his gaze wander around the room, searching for some focal point to keep him out of this fight. Fred and George, the Weasley twins, shared a wary glance. Students craned their necks to watch the siblings.

Ginny's eyebrows snapped down and her eyes narrowed dangerously at the finger, still quivering, in her face. "Get your finger," she warned, "out of my face." Though not shouting, her voice was dripping venom and was much more unnerving to the students than her brother's bellowing voice.

"No!" He was, unfortunately, still shouting. And quivering. The plates along all four House tables started to rattle ominously.

Colin was practically climbing on the Gryffindor next to him, desperate to put some distance between himself and the angry redheads. Hermione was wringing her hands, her eyes darting from redhead to redhead. Harry was seemingly fascinated by the enchanted ceiling. Fred and George rose as one to move down the table to their siblings. Students waited on baited breath, leaning slightly away from their tables.

"No?" Her voice had turned soft and deadly. Her eyes flashed dangerously. Quicker than sight could process, she had her wand drawn and at the ready. Inches from his own nose.

Ron went cross-eyed, training his vision on the wand pointed between his eyes. A trace of unease leaked into his angry eyes.

Colin, hysterical, gave up on all pretense and dove under the table. Hermione moaned and buried her face into her hands, peeking between her fingers. Harry was naming the constellations visible on the ceiling. Fred and George halted abruptly a few feet from the quartet, eyes riveted on Ginny's wand. Students stilled as though by magic.

She stared at him unblinkingly. "Draw your wand," she commanded. "I'd prefer to not face an unarmed opponent – though it won't do you much good." She smirked nastily.

He appeared to think for a moment, and then he smirked in return, a triumphant look in his eyes. "No." He was no longer shouting. Or quivering. The goblets and plates were still quaking, though, and the utensils added their quiet clinks.

A squeaky "Bloody hell!" came from under the table. Hermione moaned louder, her eyes as wide as saucers and her fingernails digging into the flesh of her unnaturally pale face. Harry turned around, fully absorbed in counting the stars with a newly discovered interest. He did not really know many constellations, after all, despite his Astronomy classes. Fred and George sighed in resignation before backing up a several feet knowing what was to come. Students gasped and a few dropped their eating utensils, which took up clinking alongside their mates.

An eyebrow climbed her forehead. "No?" she questioned, as though tasting the word.

"No," he repeated firmly, confidently.

She sighed. "Very well." She smiled sweetly, a dimple in her left cheek.

A flash of light erupted from her wand and hit him squarely on the forehead. His face was covered in the giant flapping wings of her infamous Bat Bogey Hex. The force of the flapping wings sent him sprawling ungracefully to the ground, and he was clawing at his face futilely and shouting again. She watched a few moments, satisfaction written on her face, before turning and resuming her seat on the bench. She began eating as though she had never been interrupted.

Colin's red face popped up between Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil, several seats down and his nose bleeding. Hermione looked torn between helping Ron and keeping far away from his flailing limbs and flapping bogeys. Harry was shuffling past the twins still counting stars. Fred mumbled "_Silencio!_" and George muttered "_Wingardium Leviosa!_" and they took their flailing and shouting brother out of the Great Hall, followed by Hermione, who pulled the star-counting Harry by his robes. Students watched this strange procession, glanced at the youngest Weasley, and slowly returned to eating their forgotten dinner with their unmoving utensils and plates, speculating furiously the reason for Ron's upset.

Several moments passed before dinner was once more in full swing. The Slytherins laughed derisively in remembrance of the hex placed upon the Weasel King. Pansy was scowling, not pleased with the interruption, and complained to Blaise loudly of the antics of the Weasley family. Blaise was smirking, thoroughly amused by those same antics, and listened to Pansy's rant with one ear. As she fumed about the "indecorous" and "foul-tempered brood," he turned to Draco to gain a second opinion.

At the look on Draco's face, however, his smirk and amused eyes slid into a blank mask. He allowed his gaze to follow the blonde's across the Hall. Draco was smiling curiously, his unblinking eyes arrested on Ginny Weasley. Blaise's eyes snapped back to his friend, disbelief niggling in his thoughts.

He nudged Pansy, not gently, with his foot under the table. She glared at him, mouth falling open with every intention of berating him for what was sure to be a bruise on her ankle. He pointed his chin in the direction of the Hall entrance. They stood and sauntered from the Hall, nodding to their Housemates in passing. Once they were within the walls of their common room, Pansy crossed her arms as Blaise gazed into the fire.

"Well?" As ever, she was impatient. Her fingers were tapping against her arms.

Blaise continued to watch the fire, his blank face turning thoughtful. After a few more seconds, he turned to his companion. She stilled her fingers, willing her body to relax. "He was watching the She-Weasel," he announced quietly, waiting for her reaction.

He did not have to wait long, though it was not quite what he expected. Her arms dropped to her sides and she stepped back, startled. Then she laughed. She laughed so hard she sank onto a green velvet-covered chaise and she clutched her stomach. He watched bemusedly as her laughter faded to chuckles, which faded to the occasional giggle. She wiped at the corner of her eyes, still giggling somewhat. She looked up at him, her eyes still laughing. "All right, you have my attention. So, what was he _really_ looking at?" she asked curiously. A smile tugged at her lips.

A flash of pity welled inside him as he watched her with her mirthful eyes. She was hopelessly in love with Draco Malfoy, a boy who could not be less interested in her romantically. He sighed and let his eyes fall shut wearily. He dropped next to her on the chaise and covered one of her hands with his own. He blinked his eyes open and looked at her fire-lit features.

"Pansy," he started, gently, "he was staring at Ginny Weasley." His lips quirked. "Or, I suppose her name is Ginevra Molly Weasley." At her continued unchanged features, he licked his lips and continued, "You know, the Fifth Year Gryffindor. She plays a mean Chaser in Quidditch, though she's not a bad Seeker." He knew he was verging on babbling, but Pansy's face was unnerving him more than a little. "I think she dated a Ravenclaw last year. And Thomas, the Gryff from our year, I think she's dating him now. I see them together a lot. But I don't really know for sure." He shrugged apologetically, as though his lack of knowledge and interest in the Weasley girl's love life was his fault.

He wrenched his eyes away from Pansy's to study a scene of glory depicted on a tapestry, but he could still feel her gaze on him, crawling beneath his skin. He let go of her hand and wrapped his arm around her slim shoulders, tucking her head under his chin. He stroked her arm soothingly. "I'm sorry," he quietly told her. "If I could make it so it wasn't true, I would. On Salazar's bones, I hate for him to be staring at any Gryffindor, let alone a Weasley."

She stirred slightly. "Do you think… that maybe he was just looking at her tonight because of the display she and that brother of hers put on? I mean, everyone else was staring at her, so that could be it. Right?" Her voice was hesitant at first but gained momentum. She had a valid point, but for the look in Draco's eyes earlier.

He watched the fire flicker shadows around the common room. They were the only occupants. His silence spoke for him, and her breathing hitched. For the next half hour, he held her as she grieved, knowing at last that the object of her affections would never return her feelings. He murmured soothing sounds above her ear, stroked her hair, and pressed light kisses to her temple. He escorted her to the girls' dormitory entrance and watched her disappear just as the first students came back from the Great Hall.

Instead of going to his own dormitory, Blaise left the common room to walk the halls. He kept away from the crowded avenues, seeking solace. He wanted peace to think about the night's events. Pansy's pain was mostly her own doing, as their friend had never really shown much interest beyond a casual relationship. The dark-eyed Italian knew Draco would not mind having Pansy as a friend – a real friend, – but the girl had never wanted just friendship from the Slytherin Prince. He sighed heavily. It was all so convoluted. He continued to meander aimlessly.

Draco, meanwhile, followed a certain redhead as she strolled arm-in-arm with Luna Lovegood to the Ravenclaw quarters. She had dismissed Colin before engaging in what he assumed was girl talk with the strange girl often nicknamed "Loony Lovegood."

Ginny and Luna discussed the latest _Quibbler_ issue, in which some new fantastical creature or other was documented. They also spoke of Colin and his obsession with photography, and the unfairness of Professor Snape. Their chatting led them to boys, as many conversations with teenage girls do, and they picked which boys they found cutest this year. Luna, true to form, proclaimed Harry and Ronald her favorites and Ginny giggled. She agreed that Harry was cute, but she was dating Dean Thomas, so she thought him to be cute, too. Blaise Zabini was also rather striking, she mentioned. Luna also thought so, but she believed Draco Malfoy was more appealing than Blaise, a comment to which Ginny wrinkled her nose in distaste and declared his personality too wretched to make him viable for being attractive at all.

Too soon, the girls were parted, and Ginny took a few short-cuts to Gryffindor Tower so she would not need to backtrack. She never noticed her silent shadow stalking her with gleaming silver eyes. She met Dean outside the portrait of the Fat Lady, and they hugged briefly. He glanced up and down the corridors, also not seeing Ginny's shadow, and proceeded to pull her by the hand to a nearby alcove, hidden from view and very useful as a snogging hideout.

Draco smirked from the shadows. If he waited till curfew, he could dock points, as he was a Slytherin Prefect. He settled into a comfortable lounging position, eyes not straying from the alcove. About two minutes before curfew, the pair emerged. Ginny glanced right and left as she straightened her uniform and robes. She ran her fingers through her mussed hair, gave Dean a quick peck on the lips, and dashed across the hall to the portrait. Her voice was breathless as she whispered the password, and her cheeks were flushed as the light from the common room reached her in the corridor. She climbed in quickly.

The portrait closed and Draco looked to find Dean straightening his own robes. He had a satisfied smirk on his lips, and was unhurried as five minutes ticked past. Just as Dean appeared ready to step up to the portrait, Draco briskly strode from the shadows, hiding a wince as his left leg protested the motion after so long being still. Dean caught sight of him and froze.

The Slytherin faked a start of surprise. "Out after curfew?" he gasped. "Tsk, tsk. I'm afraid that's ten points from Gryffindor." He shook his head in mock disappointment, his silver eyes gleeful, a condescending smirk stretching his pale lips.

He walked past the spluttering boy and leisurely made his way to the Great Hall entrance. He turned to go to the dungeons when Blaise fell into step with him.

"Draco," Blaise greeted.

"Blaise," Draco returned. He glanced at his long-time friend. "What are you doing out? Were you snogging that Hufflepuff chit you've been eyeing?"

Blaise did not reply, only continued walking through the entrance to the dungeons.

Draco frowned. "What's wrong?" he queried. He still received no reply. He placed a hand lightly on the dark-haired boy's arm, pulling both of them to a stop. "What is it?"

Blaise looked at him for a moment. "It's Pansy. She was upset earlier." His voice held no inflection.

The blonde rolled his eyes. "She's always upset." They continued walking. "What was it this time? Was Flitwick upset she's horrible at Charms? Did she break the heel of a favorite shoe?"

Blaise carefully schooled his voice to be completely natural. "No, it wasn't anything like that. She just noticed you were watching the Weaslette all through dinner." If he had not been watching the boy's every nuance and movement, he would have missed seeing the other's eyes widen almost imperceptibly. "She wasn't the only one to notice, either." Those eyes flickered slightly.

"Oh?" His voice was studied casualness. He supposed he had not really been quite discreet in watching her, but for Pansy to notice… And who else noticed?

"Yeah." He let his hand fall to Draco's arm, and they stopped once more. His dark eyes searched the other's light. "So why were you?"

Those light eyes became veiled. "Why was I what?" he parried coolly.

Frustrated, he rephrased his question. "Why were you watching the Weaslette?" He kept his dark eyes on the other boy's pointed features.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Zabini." He paused for a beat. "After all, this is a _Weasley_ we're talking about. Aside from that slightly interesting show Weasel King and his sister put on, there was no reason to look in their direction." All this said with scorn, spoken as though dragged from his lips as he would rather speak of anything other than a blood traitor.

Blaise watched him for a moment longer. He smiled slightly. "Yeah. You're right. Pansy's just insanely jealous over you. I'm sure she was just exaggerating."

They continued laughing and joking as they passed through the common room and to the boys' dormitory. They stopped talking altogether when they reached their dorm, out of respect for their sleeping dorm mates. Quickly changing into sleepwear, they climbed into their beds and pulled their curtains shut with softly muttered good nights.

A certain blonde fell asleep thinking of melting brown eyes and fiery hair.

A certain brunette, knowing he had been lied to was determined to uncover Draco's reason for watching a Weasley. With a half-formed plan in mind, he resolved to tell Pansy in the morning and he fell asleep, dead to the world as all deep sleepers are.


	2. Chapter 2

Standard disclaimers apply. Please read and review

Note: I do not always post so soon. I usually have to wait to really feel like writing on certain pieces. If you've read anything I've written so far, you already know this. But even if I don't update again for awhile, I appreciate everyone who reads this and reviews. I'll be pretty busy soon, but I'll try to work on this as often as I can. I'm going to be working on another fanfiction, though, too. Whichever I'm most interested in at the time will take precedence. Thanks.

**Chapter Two**

_June Goddess_

The next two months passed quietly. Well, as quietly as they can when measured by students studying magic within the confines of a castle hidden in Scotland where wonders seem commonplace. Blaise and Pansy watched as Draco watched Ginny, who knew Draco was watching her and was becoming rather edgy.

He was watching her again. He could not help it. He unconsciously sought her form, her flaming hair. This strange "Weaslette watching" was no longer kept to meal times. He looked for her in the corridors, he searched the Quidditch pitch for her figure darting on a broomstick during Gryffindor practices, he noticed when she holed herself up in the library. He altered his own schedule to accommodate hers, just so he could see her more.

He knew that she was ablaze in the setting sun, sparkling in the moonlight. He knew that she was bemused in the mornings, not quite awake. He knew that she most alert between curfew and one in the morning. He knew she roamed the hallways at night, though he never quite caught her. But her scent floated to him on his rounds, and he knew she was always just one step ahead of him.

And sometimes he knew she watched him too. He could feel her curious eyes on him. She was always careful to catch him when he was not watching her, however, which was harder than one might think. He knew she wondered why. Honestly, he wondered that same question. For everything he knew about her, he asked himself why he knew, why he cared. He did not have those answers, though. Since the questions frustrated him so much, he just ignored them. He supposed it was not important, just so long as he did know, did care. He preferred not to think about the caring bit, though. It was a more disturbing thought than "why" was frustrating.

One particular day was different. She missed breakfast. He frowned when he did not see her in the corridors between classes. Lunch was also devoid of her presence. Dinner was the same, and he found he could not eat. She was not sitting at her table in the library. The next day was the same. No sign of a certain redhead. Anywhere. And Draco had searched high and low. Another day passed, and still no flash of red. His lack of eating was worrying Blaise and Pansy, but he could not keep himself from trying to figure out this latest mystery. And food was rather low on his list of priorities.

By chance, he saw her exiting the Headmaster's Office during his Prefect rounds. With the too careful movements of someone not trusting their own motor functions, she climbed stairwells to the Infirmary. He watched the doors from the shadows, but she did not emerge. He did not notice the passage of time, so much as the drop in temperature and a coldness seeping into his bones. He finished up his rounds and reported no incidents to Filch. He left quickly as Mrs. Norris' glowing eyes bore into his skull. He backtracked to the Great Hall and veered in the direction of the dungeons. Sleep came easier this night, since he knew where she was.

Once again, he refused to acknowledge, or attempt to answer, the question of why he was relieved to have finally seen the youngest Weasley. He attributed it, as always, to his obsession of revenge. He wanted to exact the perfect revenge for the Bat Bogey Hex she had given him last year. He fell asleep hoping she would return to classes soon.

And she did. The next week, she was back as irritable as ever, struggling to catch up with all the work she had been unable to complete while sick with a nasty bout of flu. Life was back to normal. The end of term and Christmas holidays were looming, and students all over school were bombarded with unending homework assignments. The library was filled to capacity every evening until closing time. Madam Pince found it rather difficult to get some of the more persistent students to leave. Of course, they were only concerned with academic failure as they were lacking completely in preparation for end of term tests.

Ginny, of course, ever since shortly before Halloween, was considered to be a dangerous witch to cross. No one really felt like sitting with her in the library as she studied desperately for her tests and mired through her late and current assignments. She was even working on extra credit assignments, as some work could not be made up after having missed the lessons. In fact, only her two best friends, Luna and Colin, and the Golden Trio were allowed to sit at her table as she studied.

Luna and Colin had announced their official status as a couple a few days ago, however, and they had been absent from the library as they caught up with each other. They had apologized profusely, but she had laughingly sent them away from her. She said she would much rather not be a witness to their snogging, as she did have work to do.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione had closeted themselves away researching Horcruxes with Headmaster Dumbledore. They believed this was a key to destroying Lord Voldemort. She had expressed her sympathy at the gravity of the situation and sent them away from her wishing them luck.

Dean seemed to have as much an allergy to the library as the twins, who were supposed to be studying diligently for their N.E.W.T.S. as they retook their seventh year. Of course, she understood Dean's preoccupation much better after she walked in on him and Lavender snogging in the Gryffindor common room. He pleaded that with her being so sick recently, Lavender had been helping him in Divination. She had not been as hurt at the end of that relationship as he assumed she would be, but she was rather ticked off he had not been honest to end it with her before striking it up another girl. She left them both with well-placed hexes and returned to the library and her studying.

She did not exactly forbid anyone from sitting next to her, but covering every surface of the table, chairs, and nearby surrounding floor in stacks of books was hardly encouraging. She was also known for Summoning books from all over the library. It was a rather inconsiderate practice, since many other students were also perusing those books. Strangely, no one called her on it. No one quite wanted to challenge her.

Draco arrived in the library that evening, somewhat harried, though appearing immaculate. It had taken much longer than he had hoped to shake Blaise and Pansy from his trail. They just would not leave him be. They constantly asked questions about his plans for the day, wondering what he was doing at all times. It was more than a little irritating.

A quick scan of the over-crowded library added to his displeasure. There were absolutely no free tables. He scowled darkly and stepped into the musty domain anyway. He passed pockets of students grouped mostly by House, though there were some grouped by Year. At a back table, he spied Ginny, alone, books heaped haphazardly around her and her table… and one chair – the last chair in the whole sodding library. He sighed deeply. While he could admit to being fascinated by the girl ever since she had hit him with her Bat Bogey Hex, he really did need to study.

Ginny was immersed in a volume detailing the rise of the Dark Arts in the Middle Ages. It was an intriguing read, and it would provide much needed points in her essay for Defense Against the Dark Arts. While the subject was far from boring – so long as Hogwarts employed a decent instructor, – the essay was a gruesome four feet in length. Definitely not light work, but it would save her grade in the class.

She frowned. For some reason, she was feeling distracted. Irritated, she shook her head jarringly and concentrated once more on closing out the din of the library's occupants and focusing on her essay. She jotted a few lines of notes with her quill. She finished her page. Someone was watching her.

She snapped her head up, her intense gaze settling on the quickly masked surprised features of one Draco Malfoy. She stared at him. He stared back. She raised an eyebrow. He raised one in return. She pouted. He smirked.

Sighing, "What do you want, Malfoy?"

Gray eyes flickered around the library. "I want to study. I _am_ in a library, after all." His smirk was smugly superior.

She snorted lightly and turned back to her book. "I'm so glad for you." She turned a page. She scanned the contents of the text before her. She turned another page. He was still there. Watching her. "Well?"

"Well," he drawled, "there are no more tables available. Only yours – if you're willing to share, that is?" His tone implied a great lack of caring for her will. He was being snooty, which she hated. She glared at him. He stepped back hastily as she whipped out her wand. She hid a smile, but her eyes still laughed at his unease. A swish and flick, and the pile in the table's only other chair – indeed, the library's only other chair – floated gently to the floor.

She returned to her reading, not caring if he sat down or left. Halfway down her current page, she saw, peripherally, his slender form drop gracefully into the chair. He cracked open his own books and set to studying.

Quietly, they studied together. This became their pattern for the remainder of the term. One would arrive first after dinner, usually Ginny, and they would share the table at the back with each other. They rarely spoke, and when they did it was to share some snarky observation, always at the other's expense. More often than not, however, they studied in silence with only the rustling of pages to mark the passage of time.

The last day of term came, and they boarded the Hogwarts Express. At Platform Nine-and-Three-Quarters, they went their separate ways, no words between them.

Christmas at Number Twelve Grimmauld Place was hectic. Harry and Ron sequestered themselves with Order members to relay Dumbledore's wishes for the holidays. Fred and George continued developing products for their joke shop, Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. The Order members, while friendly, were far too busy with their secret orders from Dumbledore to keep her company, so Ginny spent her time alternately alone or in the company of the twins.

The Weasley matriarch brandished various cooking utensils every time she came across the three together working on the "nonsensical" and "completely disgraceful" experiments and finished goods of the joke shop. It would generally turn into lectures about N.E.W.T.S for the twins and O.W.L.S. for Ginny. The twins felt the lectures well worth getting caught, though getting caught was rare. Their younger sister only shared their view until her fifth lecture. Listening to her mother drone on and on, and once accusing her of letting her grades slip, which had enraged the girl, who was easily within the top five of her Year, was fast becoming not worth getting caught.

More and more frequently she spent her time in the Black Library. One afternoon turned quite profitable when she came across a cache of Dark Arts books. Not that she had a longing to pursue the Dark Arts, she was merely curious. After all, her first year at Hogwarts had seen her under the possession of Lord Voldemort's sixteen-year-old self of Tom Riddle. She had long realized she would never be completely free of the Dark Lord, and she wondered what Dark remnants he had left in her head.

And so she read. She read and read. She found the volumes fascinating, and more than one passage was familiar. Those tidbits seemed as though remembered from a dream, but she knew they were Tom's legacy. The day of return to Hogwarts was fast approaching, and she still had many more books to read, too many to finish before school. So she hid the books where she had found them and placed wards around them. She hoped this would keep them protected until summer.

A whirlwind of activity marked the end of holidays. Fred and George were everywhere locating and packing all their experiments and products. Harry and Ron frantically finished essays they had been assigned over holidays. Ginny, who had done all her holiday homework early on, was left to double check and triple check her wards between bouts of packing. Tearful farewells from the Weasley children's mother sent them onto the train and back to school.

Gradually everyone fell back into their routines. The Golden Trio held exclusive meetings, whispering in the corners of the common room. Fred and George tested items on younger years, since Hermione was too busy to notice and berate them. Once again, Blaise and Pansy's eyes followed Draco as Draco's eyes followed Ginny.

Waking up one night from a nightmare of Tom and the Chamber of Secrets, Ginny curled up in a chair in a darkened corner of the common room. She watched the dying embers in the fireplace, losing track of time. Shortly before dawn, she stood up and stretched. As she made her way to the girl's dormitories, she saw a liquid-seeming, silvery material peeking out from beneath a cushion on the couch.

Reaching out, she pulled the fabric, which felt like silk, and stared at Harry's Invisibility cloak. Her first thought was to scold him for leaving it so carelessly in the common room and return it. Close on the first, her second thought whispered what all she could do with an Invisibility cloak. Thoughtfully, she folded the cloak and walked to her dorm. Before she could rethink her decision, she stashed the cloak at the bottom of her chest. She hurried through her shower and got ready for classes, giddy.

So giddy, in fact, that breakfast was hard to force down. She managed a slice of toast and some orange juice, before going to Herbology with Colin grousing at her side. He and Luna were hitting a rough spot, their obsessions too uninteresting to the other in a relationship different from friends. Her classes passed quicker than seemed possible, and dinner was as hard as breakfast and lunch when it came to eating.

The Trio sat nearby, and she heard part of their whispered conversation. Hermione was lecturing Harry on the evils of not taking better care of important items, which Ginny deduced to being the Invisibility cloak, and how it now being stolen was a lesson he needed to learn. Ron rolled his eyes at Harry through the lecture and steadily ate his potatoes. In an effort to shut up his know-it-all friend, Harry claimed he had probably just misplaced and forgotten where it was, but he would find it after dinner. Ron quickly supported this notion, leaving Hermione with pursing lips and a distinctly disapproving expression. She kept her mouth shut, however, which was all the boys had wanted and they sighed in relief.

Ginny, however, was ready to make use of Harry's "misplaced" cloak. She watched as they combed the common room looking for it, and even went so far as to offer her assistance to help them search. They claimed they had left a book in the common room the night before.

"A book?" she asked. "Was it one of your text books? Or was it a library book?"

"Text book," Ron had answered.

"Library book," Harry had said at the same time.

She looked from one to the other. They exchanged glances nervously.

"It was an older text book from the library," Hermione cut in. Ginny looked at her. If she had not known they were all lying, she would have believed the bushy haired Sixth Year. There was no trace of the lie on her face. She even smiled and rolled her eyes. "I was using it to teach some basic principles of Charmwork to these two –" she indicated Harry and Ron with a wave of her hand, "– but I left it here instead of putting it in my bag. I was going to return it today but I can't find it," she finished with a shrug.

Ginny smiled. "Unattended library books often return to the library. I've had that happen to me before." She looked at them all again. "Well, if you're sure you don't need help, I'll just turn in. I'm tired." She yawned for effect. They bid her good night.

Once in her room, she laughed quietly. Hermione was good, that was sure, but she would never be able to compete with Ginny's skills in lying. Being the youngest of seven children, imbued with a penchant for troublemaking, and the only girl with six brothers, Ginny was an expert at lying undetected. She drew the bed curtains and finished the last of her homework while her dorm mates filtered into the room. A quick check around the room as she put away her books showed covered beds. Her dorm mates were most likely asleep. She eased her trunk open and reverently clasped the Invisibility cloak to her chest. She grabbed her wand, threw the cloak on, and crept to the library.

Once in the Forbidden section of the library, she cast wards to keep all sound within the small room. Over the next two weeks, she pored over Dark Arts and other forbidden books. She also followed Prefects on their rounds and learned their schedules and routes. She hid the cloak in the common room early one morning and was witness to Harry's relief when he found it. His jubilance was so great he hugged her when she said good morning. Surprised, she hugged him back, and when he pulled away he looked at her strangely.

Later that night, he asked her out. Since a Hogsmead weekend was coming up, they went for butterbeers at the Three Broomsticks. News of their new relationship spread quickly, and not everyone was happy.

"What?!" Ron shouted. The Gryffindor common room occupants sighed in unison. Younger years either went to their dorms or flooded out the portrait to loiter in the halls until the explosion was finished.

Hermione looked at Ginny and Harry over her Arithmancy book. Her expression was vaguely displeased, though she said nothing. She did not have to. Ron was more than capable.

"Harry and I," Ginny proclaimed loudly, "are going out." Before her brother could open his mouth, she continued, "And it's really none of your business, Ronald Weasley!"

Ronald Weasley turned a dark purple color. "Not my business? Not my business! Of _course_ it's my business, Ginevra! You're my sister! He's my best mate!" He turned to Harry. "And what do you think you're doing? Going out with my sister? That's rubbish! You can't date my sister! You're supposed to be my best mate!" He kept a steady shout through it all. But he was not finished. He turned to Hermione next. "And you!" Her brown eyes widened over her book. "You should have stopped this! You're so bloody smart and observant. How did you not see this coming? The least you could've done was warn me!"

Hermione's eyes narrowed angrily. "I am not your sister's keeper, Ronald! That's your job!" She ignored Ginny's indignant "Hey!" and continued shouting at Ron. "And as for Harry, I'm not his keeper either! So don't you dare bring _me_ into this, trying to blame me for something. Honestly!" She slammed her book shut and got to her feet. Her face was flushed and her eyes were moist. She stormed across the room to the girls' dormitory entrance. A foot on the first step, she looked over her shoulder. "And the next time you talk to me, it had better be to apologize!" She stomped up the stone stairwell.

Ron, flabbergasted and still angry, stomped to the boy's dormitory and a loud crash from his door slamming shut was heard moments later.

Harry and Ginny shared a look.


End file.
